


Thief of Small Pieces

by Buhneebaby



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Biting, Drinking, Kissing, M/M, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27894523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buhneebaby/pseuds/Buhneebaby
Summary: All Feitan knows is taking.
Relationships: Feitan/Phinks (Hunter X Hunter), Feitan/Phinx
Comments: 6
Kudos: 54





	Thief of Small Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> just a short, sweet little something in between finishing As Long As I Say Love. ♥
> 
> I don't have a beta, please excuse any mistakes. ♥

Feitan never had any reservations about stealing. Life to him was about giving nothing and taking whatever he wanted and simply not worrying about the consequences that may arise from doing that. He was pretty strong, pretty smart, pretty capable of taking care of himself if he happened to get into trouble. So he was accustomed to getting whatever he wanted. One could even say that he was spoiled.

He was very young the first time he plucked Phinks’ cigarette from between his lips. Phinks, who was not much older or taller than Feitan at the time, could only sputter indignantly and try to snatch it back (it was his one and only smoke and they weren’t too easy to come by in the slummy area they lived in). But that was even more reason for Feitan to want it.

He took an experimental puff, instantly gagging on the taste and the feeling of smoke entering his lungs. “Why you do this?” he demanded of his friend even as he took another drag because Feitan was many things and a quitter was not one of them.

Feeling satisfied that at least the little thief was choking on it, Phinks just shrugged. “It reminds me of my dad and I guess it makes me feel calm. I dunno, I never really thought about it before.”

“It’s gross.” Feitan was on his fourth drag and was not coughing on it anymore. He sucked the smoke deep into his lungs and held it there for a moment, feeling a subtle burn. It felt like his insides were being wrapped in a fuzzy blanket. He exhaled slowly through pursed lips and smiled as he finally began to understand.

“Give it back, then, if it’s so gross.” Phinks made to grab for it again, but Feitan avoided his hand. “Give it back, you’re sucking it all!”

“Shut up. We get more.”

And a lifetime addiction to nicotine was born.

___

Feitan liked to pair up with Phinks on missions whenever they had the chance to. Phinks was very strong and he was brave and maybe best of all, he never hesitated when things got serious. Even a moment’s hesitation at a crucial point could mean the difference between _mission successful_ and _mission failed_ , and depending on the situation, could also mean the difference between living and dying. Phinks was fast and efficient and also competitive, maybe a little bit too competitive sometimes.

Making missions into games was just a way to have a little fun on the job. It didn’t necessarily _detract_ from the importance of what they were doing. Because look, one way or another, they had to get through the security guarding the diamond. Chrollo hadn’t given them any specific instructions on how to do that. Sneaking in and avoiding detection was certainly an option, but how dull would that be?

Feitan was crouched behind a big potted plant, eyes alight with mischief. He peeked over at Phinks, who was pressed into the corner of the room behind the coat rack. They exchanged grins and both nodded before taking off.

Feitan’s fingernails were very sharp and very hard and that’s what he preferred to kill people with when he had to do it quickly and quietly. Only then, though. Because violence was something he enjoyed immensely. Drawing it out, making it as excruciating, as bloody, as cruel as he could. Now was not the time for all that, though. It was a simple in and out mission, unfortunately for his bloodthirst.

He was on number six when his ears perked to the sound of Phinks counting his own kills. He heard the brutal _crrruaaackkkk_ as a neck was snapped, and Phinks huffed, “Nine!” under his breath.

Exhilaration surged through Feitan. The desire to steal the diamond for Chrollo a distant memory. The mission all but forgotten and instead replaced with the all-consuming need to _beat Phinks at the game_.

So instead of going his own way and taking out his own guards, he snuck behind Phinks, following close. Then dove in and sliced the targets’ throats right out from under him! They were supposed to be quiet but Feitan was laughing, both at the blood spurting all over him because it was warm and it tickled and it made him happy, but also because of the sheer _anger_ on Phinks’ face.

“You little shit! Stop stealing my kills!” Phinks roared, swiping his hand at Feitan, who effortlessly dodged and took out yet another guard.

By the time the diamond was secured and the mission was over, Feitan had seventeen kills. Phinks had twelve.

___

“You should have ordered your own fries!” Phinks complained loudly as they stood in a back alleyway munching on some greasy fast food. He’d been jonesing for some crispy, salty, potato-y goodness all day and was fully prepared to eat the entire large order by himself before someone’s grubby little fingers kept getting in the way of his own.

Feitan had four french fries currently sticking out of his mouth when Phinks popped him up side the head.

“You’ve already eaten two burgers, Fei! How much can you even fit in there?” Phinks pinched his belly playfully. “Just go order your own if you want.”

Feitan just grinned and shrugged. “Only want a few.” And took another handful.

“You’ve eaten like half!”

The only comeback Feitan could think of was, “Shut up,” as he wiped grease on Phinks’ expensive tracksuit.

“Hey! This is an expensive jacket, bastard! I should kick your ass for that!”

As Phinks drew back to crank his arm, Feitan snatched the container of fries and sprinted away, much faster than Phinks could ever hope to be. It was a distinct advantage of having stayed so small when all his friends had continued to grow: he was fast and agile and absolutely made for this kind of thievery in particular.

After that, anytime Phinks ordered finger foods like french fries or cheese sticks or jalapeno poppers, he ordered two servings whenever Feitan was around.

___

They were undercover at a very prestigious party, bored out of their minds. They were only there as back up, just in case something went wrong. But judging by how Chrollo was cozied up to the target, arm wrapped around her, champagne flute in hand - Feitan rolled his eyes and made loud exaggerated kissing sounds in Phinks’ ear - they wouldn’t be needed. All Chrollo wanted was her necklace, and that should be easy enough to acquire after he got her out of the _rest_ of her garments.

Phinks made his way to the bar and ordered his favorite drink. It was called the four horsemen and was just a shot of four different whiskeys mixed together, served over ice. He sipped at it while keeping his eyes discreetly on Chrollo and the target, enjoying how the strong alcohol warmed him up from the inside.

Feitan climbed up onto the barstool beside him, struggling only a little with the height but it was still enough to make Phinks snort a laugh.

“Shut up, stupid,” Feitan muttered, taking Phinks’ drink directly out of his hand and having a taste. He made a face, coughing and spluttering dramatically. “The fuck is this!”

People were looking. Phinks whispered to him, “Will you please shut the hell up? At least pretend like you aren’t a wild animal while we’re here. We’re supposed to be acting dignified, remember what Boss said?”

Feitan just scoffed, wiping his chin from where he’d spewed droplets of spit and whiskey everywhere. “Pfft, what’s _dignified_?”

“You know. Fancy.”

They did _look_ the part. Both were dressed in very nice black suits and their shoes were shiny leather and Feitan had even agreed to let Machi brush out his hair. Phinks was wearing a bowtie, for Christ’s sake.

Feitan was frowning and staring at the glass like it had personally wronged him. It annoyed him to see Phinks drinking so casually, just as if it wasn’t gasoline or lighter fluid or rubbing alcohol. It definitely didn’t taste good, so why was he drinking it? Why did it seem like every vice Phinks had was gross and caused some sort of involuntary bodily reaction on Feitan’s part? Be it coughing and blowing smoke out his nose like a tiny dragon, throwing up after eating too many of those delicious but overly sweet candy circus peanuts, the excruciating stomach ache from the taco-eating competition they’d had, spewing liquor all over the table and the pretty women sitting near them-

He snatched the glass from Phinks again and took another sip, much smaller than the first. He swallowed it slow. Glared at Phinks, who was giving him an exasperated look.

“Why don’t you go find the kid’s table and have some apple juice? Why do you always have to put your nasty little mouth on stuff that’s mine?”

But Feitan was a few good sips in now and the alcohol was going down much smoother, with much less burning. He was feeling very warm now and a little dizzy. His cheeks were pink when he brought his eyes up to dazedly look at Phinks. Almost as if he was in awe.

“What’s that look for?” muttered Phinks, ordering another drink for himself since it seemed he wasn’t getting the other back.

“I just…” Feitan scooted his chair closer til his legs were pressed against Phinks’ legs. Phinks gave him a bewildered look, eyebrow raised. Feitan was leaning closer and whispered into his ear like it was a big secret, “I’ve never did this.” And then he was giggling.

Phinks just rolled his eyes. “I always knew you were a drunk. Unbelievable.”

Feitan hiccupped through his giggles and began spinning around on the barstool, feet flying. He lost a shoe.

Phinks paid the tab and glanced over where Chrollo and the target had been sitting. They were gone. So he scooped Feitan up and carried him under his arm like a sack of potatoes out into the cool night air, where Feitan promptly sobered up but realized he’d also developed a hell of a taste for whiskey.

___

Feitan was used to having things his own way and not compromising. It was the only way he knew. And he could be pretty persuasive. He had lots of practice at convincing people to give him what he wanted, anyway, and it was a good thing, too, because it was literally in his job description. Any means necessary. Give nothing, take everything.

But sometimes he could be greedy.

Like the night he and Phinks were up late watching old scary movies. It was just them. Everyone else had gone to their own rooms already, but they decided to make popcorn and drink sugary sodas and stay up all night in the living room. They made a fort with some chairs and sheets and had dragged the tv inside and piled the walls high with every pillow they could find. To be two teenagers on the cusp of adulthood, their ideas of having fun were very basic and childish, but they really did have a great time together. Even though neither would ever admit it to the other, or themselves, or anyone else.

Feitan was teasing him like always. Because Phinks was a big baby who was very easily spooked by silly things like scary movies. The big blond was shoveling popcorn into his mouth, eyes glued to the screen and not paying any attention at all to Feitan, who had abandoned the movie in favor of watching Phinks, who turned out to be much more entertaining.

The movie was about vampires and bogged down with gratuitous nudity and violence. It was at a very exciting part where the leading man had entered the vampire’s den, and she was wearing a lacey little barely-there ensemble and he, of course, was having an exceptionally hard time bringing himself to kill her. She lured him closer and things were starting to get steamy. The stake fell from his trembling hands and rolled across the floor. She leaned in close to his neck and the camera zoomed in on his throbbing veins. Phinks had also leaned closer to the screen, his eyes wide and focused, entirely oblivious to what Feitan was doing behind him.

Feitan waited until the vampire’s fangs had descended and the lead man groaned out in pained pleasure before he lunged at Phinks’ neck and bit him.

The scream Phinks let out was magnificent and hilarious and Feitan was laughing around his mouthful of Phinks’ neck, continuing to playfully bite him.

Phinks grabbed him and they scuffled for a minute, all flapping hands and bruising elbows and angry grunting as they each fought for dominance. Feitan always ended up losing these kinds of fights, always finding himself pinned down beneath the bigger and stronger body. It was pretty annoying, pretty emasculating. But that didn’t stop him from trying his best to wiggle and squirm and try to work his way out. It didn’t seem like he’d have any luck getting away this time, though.

So when Phinks pinned both his hands down beside his head, breathing heavy from the exertion, his neck red and bearing perfect teeth impressions, Feitan only grinned impishly up at him. And somehow that only pissed Phinks off more.

“Scaredy cat Phinks. If I was vampire, I would eat you. Easy.”

Phinks huffed angrily. “Shut up! You would not.”

But Feitan was licking his lips with exaggerated seductiveness and looking up at Phinks from beneath his eyelashes. And he was just playing around and being dumb and objectively, Phinks definitely knew that. His body, on the other hand…

And Feitan could tell pretty quick that there was a change happening in his friend because the hands holding his wrists down loosened up a little and Phinks' eyes got just a little bit wider. And he wasn't glaring into Feitan’s eyes anymore, no, he was pointedly and distractedly fixed on Feitan's mouth and the tiny tongue still running over the curve of soft lips.

Feitan made a small sound, a low _hmm_ that hardly left his throat. His lips parted a little more, breath turning just the slightest bit shallow. The way Phinks was looking at him was making him feel funny in a warm fluttery sort of way.

He arched his whole body up hard with no warning and took the moment of temporary startlement to flip their positions. He was much smaller than Phinks and felt very powerful now that he was sitting on top of him and holding him down. He grinned that mean, sharp-toothed grin and leaned back down to press his mouth against Phinks' neck again.

Instead of offering any resistance though this time, Phinks just let out a ragged moan. His head rolled to the side seemingly without his own thoughts driving it and Feitan took the opportunity to bite down again, hard enough to draw blood.

"Too easy," Feitan muttered, tonguing the wound he'd just made. "How you taste, hm? Like scared? Or maybe taste like something else?" When he pulled back to look, Phinks had his eyes squeezed shut, panting. "Look at me," whispered Feitan.

And when Phinks opened his eyes, Feitan was smirking at him. Phinks was forced to watch every torturous millisecond of Feitan's face inching closer, til their noses were touching. Then warm lips brushed softly against his, imploring. And maybe it was instinct that drove him to part his lips for the other, or a desperate desire to pull air into his oxygen-starved lungs because he'd been holding his breath for the last two minutes~ but whatever the reason, he opened his mouth. And Feitan kissed him, slow and deep and searching til their tongues slid together and they could taste each other's heartbeats.

Of all the things belonging to Phinks that Feitan had desired and ultimately claimed, he found himself enjoying most the gasps of his breath and the hushed desperation of his moans. Feitan swallowed them all up, greedy for everything he could take. And Phinks gave. He gave, he gave, he gave.

_When I was a boy_  
 _my Mom taught me_  
 _that if someone steals your shoes_  
 _give them your socks too,_  
 _if they did the taking, maybe_  
 _they need it more than you._  
 _Maybe this is why,_  
 _maybe this is the reason_  
 _when you stole that first breath_  
 _I gave you my lungs._  
 _For all the beats you have robbed,_  
 _I handed you my heart._  
 _I’ve nothing left to give you,_  
 _I’ve no further to fall,_  
 _you the thief of small pieces,_  
 _I’ve given you all._  
-Tyler Knott Gregson


End file.
